


Albus Potter and the Somewhat Disappointing First Year

by ihavetodothis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Kid!Fic, Post-Series, Prequel to WIP fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:32:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4179984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihavetodothis/pseuds/ihavetodothis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus and Scorpius are an unlikely pair of friends who are special in terribly normal ways, unlike their parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Albus Potter and the Somewhat Disappointing First Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [Bex_chan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bex_chan/gifts).



> I really wanted to write a kid!fic, especially for Scorpius' and Albus' characters, due to their parents' reputations. This will be a prequel for a Merlin crossover fanfiction I'm writing next. Just a little character study. Hope you enjoy!

           Albus was quickly becoming afraid he wouldn't find anywhere to sit on the train at all as he went by compartment after compartment full of chatty kids. Rose had gone off with a few girls Albus didn't know, and James was pretending they weren't related, as Albus knew he would. Finally, he came to the last compartment, at the very end of the train, and saw a boy with slicked back, white-blond hair and light grey eyes, the same boy his uncle had warned Rose about on the platform; with a small smile, the boy was watching a tiny figure of a man in green and purple quidditch robes raise his fists in the air and strut around on the compartment's table.  
           Albus' eyes widened and he pointed to the figure.  
           "Is that Tony Silva? Seeker for the Brazilian National Quidditch Team?" he asked excitedly. Scorpius looked up at Albus and grinned from ear to ear.  
           "Do you follow them? I haven't met anyone yet who does."  
           "Of course I do! They're my favorite team! Look!"  
           Albus sat down across from Scorpius and dug out a striped green, white, and purple hat with yellow stars from his trunk, then put it on his head.

           “My mum plays for the Holyhead Harpies, so of course I root for them, too, but...it's different when she's your _mum_.”  
           "What position does she play? I’ve got a hat just like that at home... My name's Scorpius, by the way. Scorpius Malfoy."

           He extended his hand across the table and Albus shook it, feeling a wave of apprehension wash over him. He had heard many things about the Malfoys from his parents, and none of them were good. His uncle had said at dinner once that Draco Malfoy, Scorpius' dad, was "an evil, foul-mouthed toff who got off too easy".

           "Albus Potter. And she plays Chaser, actually...you’ve probably seen her around..."  
           Scorpius' grin fell away quickly and he raised an eyebrow.  
           "Potter? As in... _Harry_ Potter?"  
           Albus swallowed and nodded, sinking a little into his chair. He was very proud of his dad -- if Scorpius were to hate him because of what their parents thought of each other, Albus didn't want anything to do with him, anyway.  
           There was a moment of silence, and Scorpius' mouth hung open as he stared at Albus.  
           "Is he your dad?"  
           "Yes."

           Albus nodded again and hardened his gaze, as if daring Scorpius to say something rude.  
           "Blimey! Does he still have a scar? Does it actually look exactly like a lightning bolt?"  
           Albus tried not to roll his eyes, hoping other people wouldn't start asking him questions as soon as they knew who his dad was.  
            _Well, yeah. Scars don't just disappear,_ he thought, but didn't say anything more than, "Yes."  
           Sensing that Albus was slightly irritated, even though his mind was swimming with more questions, Scorpius was quiet for a bit, thinking of something better to say, but then the trolley came, pushed by an ancient woman in long, maroon velvet robes, effectively breaking the silence.  
           "Anything today for you boys?"  
           "I'll take the lot," both of them said at once, looking at each other afterward for a brief second, then looking back at the cart full of sweets. The woman was staring at Albus, her eyebrows very close together.  
           "You look just like your father did when he was your age. Bless him."  
           She didn't seem to remember that Scorpius was sitting there after she had noticed Albus, and only put one of each item onto the table. Scorpius cleared his throat.  
           "Yes, right. Sorry, dear. There you are."  
           She took the handful of coins Scorpius had offered her, but shook her head at Albus'.  
           "Oh, no. I couldn't. You keep it."  
           She smiled and rolled the cart away before he could say anything, leaving Scorpius to look down at his sweets rather morosely.  
           "I'm not sure why she did that..." Albus started awkwardly, rubbing his right arm. Scorpius looked up immediately and frowned.  
           "She did it because your _dad_ killed _Voldemort_."  
           "Exactly, though. _He_ killed Voldemort. Not me."  
           Scorpius shrugged and started to open one of his chocolate frogs, which he caught immediately when it jumped out of his hand without effort. There was another silence, and Albus began to wonder why it was so difficult to make new friends.  
           "My dad doesn't like to talk about the war. Mum wants to take me to the Second Wizarding War exhibit in London, but he won't let me go. I don't know why," Scorpius said matter-of-factly.  
           Albus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't really know that much about the Malfoys' part in the war, either, because his dad never talked about them, but from what his mum had said, he could take a pretty good guess. Feeling nervous about the subject, he was quickly determined to change it.  
           "So, what house do you think you'll be sorted into? My brother's in Gryffindor, and I think my cousin's going to be in Ravenclaw."  
           Scorpius responded immediately, as though he'd known the answer to this question his entire life.  
           "I'll be in Slytherin, of course. Like my parents. As far as our family tree goes back, all of our ancestors have been in Slytherin."  
           "My dad told me the sorting hat actually listens to what you want. Do you think that's true?"  
           "Nonsense. It's supposed to sort you by what's in your head, not what you want." He pointed to his head, as if to accentuate the point. "And, besides, I'd choose Slytherin, anyway. Green is my favorite color, and their dormitories are underwater."  
           "Underwater? Under the black lake, you mean? How could--"  
           Scorpius ignored him and continued talking excitedly.  
           "I heard that you can see the giant squid swim by sometimes, and my mum says she even saw a merperson once. I doubt any of the other dormitories have anything like that."  
           Albus thought back to what his dad had said about the Gryffindor common room, that it was a circular room with comfy chairs and a fireplace, and wondered if all the rooms had that. He knew for sure the Gryffindors' common room was not underwater.  
           "My uncle says the people in Slytherin are exclusively purebloods, and they hate anyone who isn't."  
           "I don't think anyone thinks that way anymore. Not after the war. Or, if they do, they don't say anything about it. Mum says blood doesn't make a difference at all, and she was a Slytherin. Aren't you a pureblood, though?"  
           "No, my dad's mum was muggleborn. I'm not sure what that makes me."  
           Scorpius shrugged again and unwrapped a cauldron cake.  
           "I've heard many times that Ravenclaws are snobs, and Gryffindors are arrogant, but I don't think any of the houses have anything to do with how nice someone is. It's just what attributes fit you best."  
           Albus' ears started to turn red and he looked at the table, his hand over a pumpkin pasty.  
           "But...I don't have a clue which one would fit me."  
           After taking a bite of his cauldron cake, Scorpius tapped his finger on his chin and knit his eyebrows in thought.  
           "Look at it this way...how would someone who knew you well describe you in one word?"  
           "Er...stubborn."  
           "Okay, okay, but..." Scorpius sighed and waved his hands in front of him in some abstract gesticulation. "Would they say you're brave, loyal, clever, or smart?"  
           "I don't know. I don't really think I'm any of those things."  
           He nibbled off a corner of his pasty and continued looking at the table, feeling terrified that maybe he wouldn't get sorted at all, and he'd have to take the train back home all alone...  
           "I think it's best just to see where the hat puts you, then. Or, if what your dad says is really true, just choose the one with the best common room...which is Slytherin, obviously. I already told you that."  
           "That seems a silly reason to choose a house."  
           "Well, what other reason do you have?"  
           Scorpius smirked before popping the rest of his cauldron cake into his mouth and Albus tried to think of something to say back, but he had to admit that Scorpius was somewhat right.  
  
  


 

           When the train stopped, all the students filed out onto a large, paved platform that was slick with rain. In the distance, he could see the shimmering surface of what must be the black lake. Something that looked like a tentacle rose out of the water for a second, then fell back down, but it could have been Albus' imagination. They walked closer to the lake, ushered into their boats by a gigantic man in torn-up brown robes.  
           "Hey! Hagrid!" Albus yelled, waving at him.  
           "You _know_ him?" Scorpius asked astoundedly. Albus jumped; he had completely forgotten Scorpius was still there.

           "Albus! How's yer dad been? No' a lot ter do in the ministry recen'ly, o' course," Hagrid responded when they walked up to him. Albus heard James shouting behind him, and Hagrid looked over his shoulder to wave before he headed toward the carriages. "An', errr...who's yer friend?"  
           Scorpius had taken a few steps back from Hagrid, looking slightly fearful. Nevertheless, he reached out a shaking hand and kept his chin stretched abnormally high.  
           "I'm Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy."  
           Hagrid shook the boy's hand with his eyebrows raised, looking from him to Albus several times and pressing his lips together.  
           "Well, then. On yeh go, nex' boat's fer you two. Got ter get all the studen's ter the castle 'fore it gets dark."  
           "See you later, then, Hagrid!"  
           Hagrid waved them goodbye, then went on to the next group of students as Scorpius, Albus, and a pair of girls with dirty-blonde hair and very round noses, who were obviously twins, stepped into their boat and sped off toward the castle.  
           "Would you quit touching that pin!" one of the twins shouted at the other, crossing her arms and scowling severely.  
           "I'm just checking to see it's still there!" the other twin responded in a wounded voice.  
           "You'd think after Mum put a permanent sticking spell on, it would stay put!"  
           "Well, it's not hurting anyone just making sure!"  
           Scorpius and Albus looked over at each other with bored expressions. Albus wished the boat would move faster.  
           "It _is_ hurting me, I have to look at...hang on! Are you Albus Potter? Son of _Harry_ Potter?"  
           Albus blushed, his mouth twisting uncomfortably as he nodded. The twins' jaws fell open, and they leaned closer to Albus, buzzing with curiosity.  
           "Is it true he could produce a patronus when he was thirteen years old?"  
           "Did he _actuall_ y defeat a basilisk _single_ -handed in his _second_ year?"  
           "Did he buy an _entire_ town in Ireland and name it after his dead owl?"  
           "I heard that in addition to snakes, he can also speak to cats! Have you heard him speak to cats?”

           There were too many questions coming from them all at once, and Albus looked over his shoulder to see, unfortunately, that they were only halfway across the lake. He twisted his mouth some more and looked around the boat, not knowing how to respond.  
           "I -- erm --"  
           "Go to the library and do your _own_ research, why don't you? If it's not in a textbook, then it probably isn’t true," Scorpius snapped at them before looking back at Albus for some kind of gratitude. The twins closed their mouths and leaned away from them, taken aback. Albus smiled sheepishly, although vaguely put off by the tone of Scorpius’ voice, and the rest of the boat ride was wrought in a calm silence.  
  
  
  
           To Albus' surprise, his godfather had been the one to lead them into a huge room full of tables called the Great Hall; he tried to wave at him, but in the crowd of students, he was too short and Neville hadn't noticed him.  
           "You know him, too?" Scorpius whispered as they sat at a table near the door. A very old, strict-looking woman with half-moon spectacles made her way to the center of a long table for what had to be teachers, raised her arms, and everyone was quiet.  
           "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'd like to start off by introducing you all to our new head of Gryffindor house, Professor Neville Longbottom," Albus' godfather stood up, accidentally knocking a wine glass over as he did so, and bowed before sitting back down again, "and our new Arithmancy teacher, Aemilius Truserblead." A man as tall and skinny as a muggle telephone pole stood up, dressed in deep emerald robes and a pointy yellow hat. He bowed, as Neville had, then sat back down with a humble smile.  
           "I must remind you all that the forest at the edge of the grounds is absolutely forbidden without the company of a teacher, as is the entire fifth floor, until further notice. Now, without further ado, let us begin the sorting."  
           She walked forward and placed a tattered black wizard hat on a stool that stood in front of all the separate house tables. Albus leaned toward Scorpius and whispered, "That must be the sorting hat!"  
           The hat seemed to rip apart at the middle, forming a wide gap that moved like a mouth as it began to sing:

  
_Another year has come to be,_

_so put me on your head!_

_If it were up to me, you see,_

_we'd sort next year instead!_

_I've made up yet another tune,_

_to share my views through song,_

_for I think that we sort too soon,_

_and often sort them wrong!_

_Take care to know yourself the best,_

_just let me be your guide!_

_'cause my job isn't just to test,_

_it's helping you decide!_

_Gryffindors are bold and brave_

_and Ravenclaws are keen,_

_But if it's something more your crave,_

_you'll probably dress in green!_

_Hufflepuffs make up the rest,_

_who don't know where they fit,_

_but like the badgers on their crest,_

_they're never lacking wit!_

_I'm here to tell you where you'll be,_

_although you might not know._

_Alas, it isn't up to me,_

_so, let us start the show!_

             
           When the song finished, the hall erupted in applause, but most of the first years were too frightened to clap. Then, the woman, whom Albus now recognized as Minerva McGonagall, the headmaster, began reading from a long piece of parchment that he hadn't noticed she was holding.

           “Abacre, Wilford!”

           A tiny boy with dark brown hair and thick spectacles got up from his seat and made his way over to the hat. The hat was only on his head for about ten seconds before the wide gap in it opened again and shouted, “HUFFLEPUFF!” Scorpius sniggered at something unrecognizable and Albus turned to him.

           “I don’t think I want to be in Hufflepuff.”

           When Scorpius sniggered again, Albus became quiet as he watched another kid walk up to the hat.

           “SLYTHERIN!”

           Three names were called after that, who all got into Gryffindor: Agrutia, Hannah; Agsmoth, Wivulfur; and Ayize, Echo.

           The names began to blur together, and he lost count of who was going where.

           Pretty soon, they were already on the M’s as McGonagall called out, “Mardris, Christopher!”, a dark boy with shoulder-length, untidy black hair and a hooked nose, who walked over to the hat with a grim look on his face. The hat had only just settled on his head when it yelled, “RAVENCLAW!”

           Albus swallowed. Only a few more people to go before he was called...what if he really didn’t get sorted...what would his parents say? What would he do for the rest of his life?

           “Malfoy, Scorpius!”

           Jerked back into his senses by Scorpius’ patting him on the back, he watched his new friend walk over to the hat without any hesitation at all. It felt as if the hat had been on Scorpius’ head for hours as he stared at it, and he wondered if something had gone wrong. Just as he was starting to get worried, however, the gap opened, and the hat cried out, “SLYTHERIN!”

           Scorpius’ eyes lit up and his grin was unbelievably wide across his face. He threw his hands up in the air, gave Albus a thumbs up, and went to sit with the other cheering Slytherins.

           Albus’ stomach lurched at every name that was called after that. He was shaking from head to toe, wondering where in the world the hat would put him, if it would put him anywhere at all...but it had to put him somewhere, didn’t it? He’d never heard of a kid not being able to be sorted before…

           “Potter, Albus!”

           He couldn’t breathe. He was convinced, for the time being, that he didn’t need to.

           Heads had turned to face him and were whispering fiercely with each other as he walked by them, up to the hat that would decide where he would be placed for the next seven years. The headmaster’s eyes twinkled at him and his lungs filled with oxygen. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he almost saw her give him a small wink before he sat down on the stool and pulled the dinghy hat over his head.

            _“Ahhh...another Potter. Your brother was an obvious Gryffindor...but_ you _...where to put_ you _?”_ the hat’s voice was deep and echoed in his mind, as if it were his own thoughts.

           “I’m not brave...I’m not smart or stupid or clever…” Albus thought, and the hat seemed to move a little on his head.

          _“No, not brave, I see. Smart, yes. Clever, definitely. Hufflepuff is not for the stupid, you know. Helga Hufflepuff was one of the best witches of her generation. But, you don’t seem the type…”_

           “No...I’m not a Hufflepuff...”

          _“Didn’t want Hufflepuff, then? I must say I agree. You certainly know yourself best...I think I’ve made my decision, now...yes, that’s the one...better be…”_ The hat paused for a minute. Albus could hear his heart thumping -- he was not at all ready for what was about to be said, and suddenly wanted to tell it to stop, but then the voice had left his mind to shout out loud, “SLYTHERIN!”

           The table on the very end of the hall caught his eye as students wearing dark green and black robes stood up from it and cheered, but for some reason, he couldn't hear them. Everything was quiet, even though many students' mouths were open, and Scorpius was beckoning him over to the table. McGonagall appeared behind him and gave him a gentle push toward the rest of the Slytherin students, which finally set him into motion.

           He sat down next to Scorpius and tried not to look at the Gryffindor table, from which James would surely be glaring at him. He found himself smiling at the thought that he'd done something to upset his brother...and after what Scorpius had said, Slytherin must not be so bad afterall...maybe he would be able to switch next year if he really didn't like it?

           An elbow nudged him in the ribs, causing the great noise of the hall to become apparent just before it stopped.

           "Ritsuko, Miyaku!"

           A Japanese girl who was very tall for her age and had lots of different colored barrettes in her hair walked out to the sorting hat and put it on. She didn't seem nervous at all; Albus thought she even looked bored as she sat there with the hat on her head. About a minute went by -- he could see some people leaning closer, as if they wanted to hear what the hat was saying to her -- and then the gap opened up again and shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

           The girl walked toward the second to last table in the hall, a wave of yellow sweaters, scarves, and robes, and sat down. After only about fifteen minutes, they had reached the W's, and were close to ending.

           "Weasley, Rose!"

           Albus' cousin, a girl so small she looked about two years younger than everyone else, with long, curly red hair, came out of the crowd of first years and went over to the hat. Albus thought about waving, but decided against it, sitting on his hand instead.

           She was tapping her fingers on her knees nervously as the sorting hat figured out where to put her. Then, only seconds later, the hat yelled, "RAVENCLAW!" and she scrambled off the stool to join the other Ravenclaws.

           There was only one kid left to be sorted, and after he was, the headmaster took the hat back into her hands and raised her arms again for silence.

           "Although you will be spending most all of your time only with your individual houses, it is important to try to reach out to students from other houses, as well -- so frequently do we become caught up in what is easy, and what is comfortable, that we do not risk what we already have for something that could be better. And with that, I say, ' _Bon appetit_!'"

           Albus looked back at the table and saw that it was now covered in every kind of food imaginable: lamb chops, curry, steamed spinach, and even some kind of fish. Without pausing to think, he began to pile anything that looked good onto his plate, realizing only after he had done so that his plate was positively towering with food, definitely too much to eat. But, he dug in, determined to shove as much into his face as possible, and as he turned to his right, he saw that Scorpius was doing the same thing, albeit with more manners.

           There was a sour feeling of regret creeping up into the pits of his stomach, but he covered it with rich, warm English delicacies. He would send an owl to his parents in the morning -- hopefully they could make him feel better.

 

 


End file.
